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Label boss Alya Marquardt reveals why she would persist with challenging music and learn to be happy in her own skin if she were at the start of her career once again.

Photo of Alya Marquardt
Photo: 

Alex Bonney

At 22, I believed there was nothing worse than being ordinary. I used up a lot of energy avoiding it. To me, being ordinary felt like the exact opposite of being a creative person, but the truth is that made me pretentious, and lacking a clear identity. It was hard to genuinely connect with others because I wouldn’t let them see what was ordinary – or human – about me. I realise now that we all have ordinary parts and extraordinary parts and they have to co-exist. 

Expecting rejection became my default position at one point. Not because I experienced rejection very often, but what rejection I did experience hurt so much that I’d prepare myself for the worst. Something I learned about rejection later on was that it wasn’t only about me. I am not responsible for the wants and needs of others. All rejection is co-created – we do it together. After launching Two Rivers Records, I reject too and it is often simply because my catalogue’s needs aren’t fulfilled by this particular artist at this particular time. That doesn’t make them any less talented. 

I was brought up on Arabic music, baroque or romantic classical music and Top of the Pops (until 1991 when 2 Unlimited came on and we switched the TV off). As such, I developed a deep love for what felt familiar and easy on my ear. It felt sufficiently diverse and kept me busy musically so I didn’t realise then that I was living in a comfortable music bubble. If something felt hard to listen to, I’d stop immediately and write it off. It has only been in the past six to seven years that my musical horizons have been opened. I’ve learned to tolerate what is difficult to listen to just long enough to begin to hear new things and seek things that aren’t just joy and comfort. A large part of this has been influenced by hearing courageous musicians perform. However, I primarily credit my husband who has the most eclectic record collection I could imagine, mostly acquired randomly in his native GDR. He opened my eyes to a whole new musical world.

My artistic life changed when I developed my own sense of what is good enough. At 22, I could only measure this by the responses of others. It meant that I never felt satisfied and never had a true idea of what needed to improve, it took a long time to accept my own standards as valid. I now know that it is possible to have this sense within yourself while respecting more experienced or talented artists and learning from them. Connected to this, I’d also tell myself that no amount of adoration from others can replace self-acceptance.

Up until the first Gulf War in 1991, I had an easy relationship with my identity. I am Iraqi. I am British. I am a refugee. My parents drink their tea black. I support Tottenham Hotspurs. Life was quite simple. That changed with the Gulf War when my family was threatened with deportation – I suddenly felt unwanted and afraid. Following that time, Iraq went through a decade of suffering and then the 2003 Iraq war happened. It was in 2003 that I could no longer stand my Iraqi identity. It had become too painful. It took me over a decade to reunite with it and my album Chai Party (released April 2015) was a declaration of acceptance of all of me.

Alya Marquardt is Founder of Two Rivers Records.
www.tworiversrecords.org
Tw: @2riversrecords / @AlyaMarquardt

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